As I have mentioned before, this semester in school has been hard on me. It has been extremely time-consuming and stressful. I hardly noticed when Lent began. I barely have time in the morning to read a Bible verse. I try to pray throughout the day, but let’s be honest. That doesn’t always work. Yet I didn’t want to just let Holy Week come and go like any other week, so I decided to find a church service to attend for Good Friday. I wanted something solemn, something traditional. I decided on an episcopal church, where they were performing the stations of the cross service. I went by myself, because sometimes I like doing things alone. And this was one of those times.
I walked into the cathedral-style sanctuary and took my seat on the third row. There weren’t many people there yet, as I was 15-20 minutes early. A minute later the choir began to warm up and tears immediately and unexpectedly filled my eyes. I didn’t realize how much I missed singing in a Christian choir. In college, at Tabor, I sang for all four years. My director was wonderful and passionate and he and the songs he chose for us never failed to inspire me. This church I attended had an excellent choir, and with their music filling the room it all washed over me again at that moment.
When the service began, I fell in love; I think I was born to be an Episcopalian. I loved the entire process, from beginning to end. I loved the robes the choir wore, with the crosses hanging from their necks. I loved the liturgy. I loved the recitation:
V. We adore thee, O Christ, and we bless thee:
R. Because by thy holy cross thou hast redeemed the world.
I loved the procession. I even loved all the standing and kneeling. I especially loved the short hymns we sang in between stations:
“Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison. Lord, have mercy upon us. Christ have mercy upon us. Lord, have mercy upon us.”
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom. Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom.”
I loved the sound, and I loved the silence. And I loved how it made me remember. This year, I hope Easter will not be just another day.